today i was paying attention to how i swallowed..which was dumb because i couldn't swallow enough, which made me pay more attention to it. until i just had to stop thinking about it.
i went to the library today and spent my time browsing through books about god, religion and death. i found some good books, but the best was one not about death, god or religion. it's about women and life and experience and learning.
dropped threads 2 contains awesome little stories about marriage, love, loss, strength, abuse and the like. all written by women writers.
i read it (most) in the bath tonite as part of my relaxation therapy. which has worked, by the way.
i hate to admit this to myself, but i'm awfully loathe to relax. i think i am just realizing that i have some sort of addiction to being keyed up or more plainly, it provides me with something i value.
i don't know what that could be, really, since the after effects of worry and tenseness are far from pleasant and hard to deal with. it seems strange to say hear my mind form the words, addicted to fear.